A Force To Be Reckoned With
by LEMONSKY4
Summary: A chance encounter with a young woman and her niece and nephew on his day off leads to something more for Constable George Crabtree. Complete (for the moment).


**My first Murdoch Mysteries fanfic! Yey! Anyways, this is set sometime between Seasons 1 thru 3 because those are the only ones I've seen so far. This is only a one-shot at the moment, since I have so many other stories that I should be working on. I've been itching to write this down and finally managed to do so. Depending on the reception of this, I would be easily persuaded into expanding upon this. Please let me know what you think! :)**

**Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing, I'm just having some fun!**

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It had been a grueling two weeks. They managed to solve the Thompson murder and the Ashbury murder. It was discovered that both the murder victims went to the same school and this connection caused Murdoch to solve both cases. One Mister John Greenland was behind bars. He was the former teacher of both victims. George was given a few days off for a job well done and now found himself sitting on a park bench enjoying the lovely spring day. He was contemplating visiting the shops to pick up some essentials, but he wanted to spend a little bit longer in the fresh, clean air.

"Maxwell James Rosenberg, don't you dare jump down from that tree!" George heard a feminine voice cut through the peace.

Soon after a small boy's cries could be heard. A man of the police force to his very core, George sought out the crying boy just in case additional assistance was needed. He found the source of the noises just around the corner near the foot of an old oak tree.

The young woman was trying to calm down the boy who must have been Max that had jumped from the tree for the nasty gash on his right knee and he was clutching his right arm. It also appeared to be trying to calm down a young girl that was near tears but unharmed. The young woman appeared to be overwhelmed herself.

If there was one thing that George Crabtree never ignored, it was a damsel in distress.

"I'm Constable George Crabtree, may I be of any assistance?" he asked, assessing the situation.

The cut on the boy's knee seemed rather deep and could possibly use stitches. His wrist didn't appear broken, but possibly sprained. Over all, the boy would live. A trip to the family doctor was in order though. The young woman looked at George in shock, but relief quickly clouded her features.

"Thank you, thank you Constable Crabtree," she said with a slight smile on her face.

"It hurts, Auntie Fiona," Max whimpered when she asked about his wrist.

"I know, darling. Let me take care of your knee first," she said, trying to readjust her handkerchief on the poor boy's knee. It was covered in blood.

George quickly pulled out his handkerchief and offered to bandage the boy's knee up until they got to the family doctor.

"Are you really a Constable?" the young boy asked, still sniffling. He was curious as to who this man was.

"Yes, I am," George said, tying a knot in the handkerchief. It would do for now.

The boy's face scrunched up in confusion.

"But where's your uniform?" he asked.

"I'm off duty, which is lucky for you because otherwise I wouldn't have been able to help you," George explained.

Max nodded, still sniffling.

"The wrist isn't broken, but might be sprained," George said to the young woman.

She sighed, "I suppose a visit to Dr. Richards is in order, Max."

The boy winced, "Don't tell Mum, Auntie Fiona."

"Your wrist and cut on your knee cannot be ignored," she said sadly.

Turning to Constable Crabtree, she tried to smile but it came out as a grimace.

"Thank you, Constable Crabtree for your assistance," she picked Max up and got him settled against her hip.

"Alice darling, come along. We need to get Max fixed up," she said to the young girl.

"Let me walk you to the doctor's office. Just in case anything goes wrong," George said, standing up and straightening his suit jacket.

"That's not necessary, Constable. I'm sure you have better things to do with your time," she said, staring back at him. She did find him a rather handsome young man.

"On the contrary, Miss. There's nothing else I'd rather be doing."

"Pike," the young woman said.

"Pardon?" George asked, confused.

"My name is Fiona Pike," she said, a smile on her face.

"Well, I do insist, Miss Pike," he said before taking little Alice's hand.

-x-

"There's a young lady here to see you," Higgins said, trying to hide the smirk off his face.

George blinked in confusion. Who would want to visit _him?_ Craning his neck, he strained to see who it was. From his vantage point at his desk, he couldn't see her.

"Don't keep her waiting, George!" Higgins said, now smirking broadly.

George abruptly stood up from his desk, unsettling some papers. Higgins snickered and George gave him a playful shove. Adjusting his hair and uniform, George Crabtree was ready to greet this young lady.

George smiled broadly when he came to see Miss Pike waiting. She was wearing a pale green dress and a straw hat. She was fidgeting with something in her hands.

"Miss Pike, what a pleasant surprise! I take it your nephew is doing alright?" George asked, smiling at her.

"He's fine, a sprained wrist and stitches. His mother certainly isn't pleased with him and is keeping him under her watchful eye," she explained.

"That is definitely good to hear," he said amiably, still unsure as to why she was here.

Seeming to pick up on this, she offered him what was in her hands. It was a handkerchief, so much like the one he had used to wrap up her nephew's knee. But it couldn't be the same one though; the blood would have ruined it. Seeing his somewhat confused expression, Miss Pike began to speak.

"I just wanted to say thank you for all your help with my nephew the other day. I know you told me you didn't mind, but I still felt awful for ruining your nice handkerchief. So, I embroidered one for you, just like your old one," she said quietly.

George accepted the handkerchief with reverence. No woman, outside of his family, had done something so thoughtful for him. Ever. Opening his mouth, he quickly closed it for no words came out.

"T-Thank you, Miss Pike," he finally managed to choke out.

Miss Pike blushed, "It was no problem at all, Constable."

It was then that George realized that they had an audience. Most of the men of Station House Four were looking at the pair in undisguised curiosity. George shifted awkwardly until an idea popped into his head.

"Miss Pike, would you like to accompany me to lunch? I know a nice cafe where we could talk and eat in private," he said, slightly nervous.

Miss Pike smiled brightly and nodded, "I'd be delighted."

Relief evident on his face, he happily offered her his arm and she gratefully took it. The pair left Station House Four much to the astonishment of the men. Moments later, Inspector Brackenreid came out of his office and noticed that most of the men were standing still.

"Why the bloody hell are you lot standing still!? Get moving!" he bellowed, causing everyone to start moving again.

"Higgins, where's Crabtree?" he then asked, noticing that the young man hadn't moved from his spot yet.

"He's gone out to lunch-" Higgins said, not able to finish his thought before the Inspector cut him off.

"Lunch? Who said he was able to take a ruddy lunch break! He's supposed to be working on the Bigsby theft with Murdoch!"

"Sir, he went out to lunch with a _pretty girl,_" Higgins managed to get in before the Inspector told him to haul Crabtree back to the station.

"Oh," was all the Inspector said, a serious look gracing his features. Exchanging a look with Higgins, a devious smirk spread across the Inspector's face.

"Let me know when he comes back," the Inspector said before clapping Higgins on the back.

Returning to his office, Inspector Brackenreid sat down in his chair. He would never pass up a chance to take the mickey out of Constable Crabtree, if he could help it.

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**A.N: So here it is, what do you think? Want to see more of Fiona and George? Let me know! **


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